


The Ecstasy of Gold

by boticelli



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Benny Lives, Big ol adventure, Con Artists, Drunken Flirting, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Everyone has a hard on for the courier, F/M, Fallout, Flirting, Gen, Independent New Vegas (Fallout), Mistakes were made, Moral Ambiguity, New Vegas, Revenge, Teasing, Trauma, a bit at least, so many mistakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-01-25 18:17:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21360610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boticelli/pseuds/boticelli
Summary: The package was light, it couldn’t have weighed more than a pound. She was half tempted to take what was in it for herself, but nothing this light could be worth much. The woman would much rather have caps. There was plenty of NCR money tucked away back at her home in Nipton, but it didn’t do any good in places the NCR didn’t control. The world used caps. Little scraps of paper with Tandi’s face on them meant nothing.
Relationships: Benny (Fallout)/Female Courier, Benny/Courier
Comments: 15
Kudos: 21





	1. Q: Why does Juno make bad decisions?

Her fingers tapped on the counter madly as she waited for Mr. Nash to return, nails making a satisfying _’click’_ every single time they hit the peeling linoleum. Juno avoided looking at the clock on the wall to see how long it had been, it wasn’t as if she was the impatient type, but she wanted to get as far away from Primm and the surrounding areas as fast as possible. 

She had caps to make. 

“Honey?” Mrs. Nash called from the other room, “can I get you something to drink? I’m sorry he’s taking so long.” She peeked her head around the corner, smiling. Deep wrinkles that only grew deeper when she smiled lined the corners of her mouth, her forehead was freckled and carved with wrinkles, which reminded Juno of her grandmother, but the woman couldn’t be more than a few years older than her mother. Something as simple as quality of life could affect more than just your disposition and she wondered what she’d look like when she was Mrs. Nash’s age. 

Mrs. Nash was definitely nicer than her mother, that was for sure. Seemed like she actually stuck around and liked her husband, unlike her mother. Juno happily took up her offer and was given a chilled glass of what looked like lemonade with a sort of puree of cactus blossom. The texture wasn’t great, but it was excusable. It was the first cold thing she’d drinken that wasn’t booze since Nipton. 

Just as she set her glass down on the counter, Mr. Nash walked in, dabbing at the sweat dripping from his brow. “Lord knows the rainy season can’t come fast enough,” he muttered as he situated himself behind the desk. “I’m sorry that I had to run out so suddenly, but I didn’t expect you to come so early. According to the other branches here,” he pointed at some notes scribbled in a book, “you tend to run on the late side.” 

Juno had no idea what he was talking about, but she just smiled and nodded, “I felt like it was time to work on myself. It’s a new year, after all.” She hoped she was selling it good enough. Word had gotten out about some New Vegas strip hot-shot having a high-paying courier job and she had to take it. Of course, she wasn’t a courier herself, so she had to steal someone else’s job. Early bird catches the worm, right?

The older gentleman nodded as if he knew what she was talking about. No doubt he was ready to get her out of his home. Juno was ready to get a move-on too. “Alright so, Courier number six, correct? Elijah Anderson?” 

She nodded, hoping he’d pass over the fact that he’d listed off a man’s name. There were stranger names out there. Juno had known a man named Chainsaw once, so a lady called Elijah wasn’t out there. She wondered what he was up to these days. Probably dead from a chem overdose. 

“Looks like Courier Five passed up on this job, said you should take it, so it’s all yours. Not much to go off of, but just drop it off at the location given and you should be paid accordingly upon delivery.” He folded the order slip and passed it her way. 

So this courier had friends? Juno wasn’t too bothered by the fact she was stealing someone else’s name and job, but bringing acquaintances in the picture made things messier. Regardless of whether this other courier was a friend or even someone who hated ‘Elijah’, it still complicated things. She wasn’t a novice, though. Juno had a workaround for everything. “Courier Five? I don’t think I remember him. What’s his name?” She was at least trying to be clever. 

Mr. Nash pursed his lips, “can’t disclose that, but you’d know him if you saw him. Duster, hair in locs? Didn’t seem to care much for you.” 

She could have breathed a sigh of relief, enemies was better than friends, “oh, yeah. We’ve never really gotten along. Always some sort of misunderstanding.” 

With that, she took the package from the desk and slipped it into her satchel, thanking Mrs. Nash for the cold drink and carefully closing the weathered door of the Mojave Express behind her. 

Juno traveled light, she made it a point to never stray too far from a town and if she traveled long distances, she traveled with a caravan. Security and all that fun stuff. All she carried on her was a worn leather satchel with her necessities, a sidearm and a knife, and a shotgun across her back. She’d kill for a rifle, but they were expensive and Juno was going through… money problems. Hence why she was stealing the other courier’s job. 

The package was light, it couldn’t have weighed more than a pound. She was half tempted to take what was in it for herself, but nothing this light could be worth much. The woman would much rather have caps. There was plenty of NCR money tucked away back at her home in Nipton, but it didn’t do any good in places the NCR didn’t control. The world used caps. Little scraps of paper with Tandi’s face on them meant nothing. 

Juno scowled at the sun as she trudged on. How many hours had it been since she left Primm? The heat made it feel like ages had passed her by since she made the trail towards Vegas. The city really was too far away for her liking, but it’d have to do. This job paid too well for her to abandon it now and she didn’t want to add this to her list of things she’d abandoned. Her pride would be hurt. 

It’d take more than a few days to get to New Vegas, she discovered as she watched the sun sink lower and lower in the sky. The road she was taking ran near Goodsprings, a town she always felt guilty to visit; they were all so kind. Made her want to rob them of everything they had, convince them that she was someone who deserved to be handed their possessions without doing any effort on her part other than batting her eyes and talking sweet. 

Something on top of the ridge in the distance caught the sunlight and flashed, nearly blinding her. Probably nothing more than an old radio tower or some pre-war trash that’d been left on the ground. Juno didn’t spook easily. There was no sense in scaring herself with hypotheticals and ghost stories. The worst days in her life had already passed. She didn’t need anything else to haunt her dreams, she was scarred plenty. 

The first stars were showing themselves in the purple sky as she pushed open the door of the Goodsprings Saloon. Heads turned, some of their owners raising their bottles to greet her, others immediately going back to staring at their tables. 

Juno slipped off her coat, brushing off the dirt and hanging it on the rack at the door. The woman at the bar greeted her with a quiet “hey” as she slid into a barstool. 

That’s when she saw him. Some dumb tourist who must have just come from the strip: the clothing he wore gave it all away. Checkered sport coat, slicked back hair, tired look on his face. Must have lost big time to be stuck here or maybe he enjoyed the small town vibe and was loaded with caps. Either way, he was a perfect target. Dumb, big ego, deep pockets. All she had to do was charm him. 

“Aren’t you dressed a little too fancy for Goodsprings?” She teased, holding up two fingers to order drinks, “guy like ya looks like you’re down on your luck if you’re drinkin’ here.” Juno slid a beer his way with a wink. 

She watched his head rise slowly, the sound of his coat rustling as he straightened his shoulders up. It sounded like thick fabric. Maybe a poor choice considering the climate. 

A smile grew on his face, “I thought I was down on my luck until ‘bout thirty seconds ago.” Juno couldn’t quite place his accent, but it sounded… fake? Foreign, at least. She feigned a smile in response, she expected something along the lines of that, but she’d planted the seed. All she needed to do was keep on spinning her web and she could cash out. 

The two of them shared drinks together long into the evening. She wasn’t sure who had decided to move closer to the other, but as the night wore on and more and more alcohol was consumed, they were giggling and patting each other on the back as if they’d been friends for years. 

“I just realized I never caught your name, pussycat,” he mentioned in the middle of a laughing fit. 

“Juno, but that means you gotta tell me your name.” She foolishly downed the rest of her… fifth drink? Juno had lost count after the first two. 

“Of course, baby, it’s Benny.” 

“Wait, hold up. Benny?” She turned to him and roughly put a hand on his shoulder, “Benny. The guy from the Tops? New Vegas man Benny?”

He put his hands up playfully, as if he was accused, “guilty as charged.” 

Jackpot. “Why in the fuck are you here? I _knew_ you were too fancy to be here.” Her hand lingered for a second longer than she meant for it to and quickly withdrew it when she noticed. 

“Sometimes ya gotta appreciate a change of scenery. Goodsprings got good people and this joint is cozy, ya dig?” He shifted in his seat, his knee bumping against hers. It felt intentional. Was it intentional? It had to be. Was she getting hot or was it her imagination? 

Juno pulled another drink towards her, downing it quickly, “I get that, ‘cept I’m doing the opposite. Going to Vegas. Tired of my home.” She needed to get him out of here. There were still too many people around, too many witnesses. Juno reached into her pocket and pulled out a near-flattened pack of cigarettes, “care to join me outside Mister Hot Shot Vegas Strip Man Benny?” 

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, long into the future, Juno would kick herself over and over again for thinking it was a playful smile, that he didn’t have any sour intentions behind it. 

“I’d love to.” 

Again, she wasn’t sure who had made the first move to put whose mouth on who’s, but it didn’t bother Juno. She quite enjoyed her position with her back against the side of the saloon, his arm hovering over her head and her hand cradling his head, his black hair wrapped around her fingers. Maybe she’d diverted from her plan to rob the man just a bit, but this was a good distraction, too. 

Until it wasn’t. 

When she finally blinked awake again, she remembered him apologizing to her, feeling a heavy blow against her head. Asshole. If he’d wanted to sleep with her, all he had to do was ask. She’d have probably jumped straight into bed with him if he’d done so.

Juno tugged against the rope around her wrists, stretching her fingers over and over as if it would help. It didn’t. 

“Good mornin’ baby.” It was still night. 

She groaned, looking up at Benny standing above her, taking a drag off of one of her cigarettes. “Benny, you break my heart.” Juno forced a smile in spite of her grim circumstances. It wasn’t until her vision focused that she noticed the others behind him. “You brought friends, been awhile since there’s been a crowd.” Her eyes squinted, scrutinizing the lot of men behind him. “Normally I prefer prettier companions.” 

He chuckled, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the ground, “unfortunately, this is all business, baby. No pleasure tonight.” If she listened close enough, she could almost hear the disappointment in his voice. 

“A shame. I’m a good lay, too,” she joked, a grim tone underlining her words, “we’ll reschedule, big guy, don’t you worry ‘bout that.” 

Benny shook his head, one last, quiet chuckle escaping from his lips, “I’m sure we will, baby. It’s a damn shame.” He knelt down, tucking a loose strand of hair and planting a final, parting kiss on her lips, as if it would undo some of the regret he undoubtedly had. 

It felt odd that all she could do was blink and stare at the pistol he raised at her head, the final apology he gave her, how the men behind him turned their heads as they waited with bated breath for him to pull the trigger. 

Maybe she shouldn’t have drank so much. 

Another one for the list of regrets and mistakes she had made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A: Because Juno is an idiot


	2. Q: Do I have a clear vision for this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! You can follow me on tumblr at: https://yumyum-deviled-eggs.tumblr.com/
> 
> I'm not super active on any of my blogs, but you can see some art of Juno and my SoSu that I've done.

“Well, soldiers, I thank you all for your _gracious_ contributions,” Juno chuckled as she pulled the piles of caps towards her, putting her rigged deck of cards into her pocket. They’d taken pity on her current state, a woman with bloodshot eyes and a bullet wound to her head. She’d gotten along well with all of the staff at the Mojave Outpost, though they’d never been clever enough to catch on to the same old tricks she was pulling. They just kept letting her come and go as she pleased, able to pull off the same shitty card tricks and grifts. 

A figure slumped over in the corner huffed in disapproval, blowing out a mouthful of smoke. 

“What is it, my pensive sniper?” She asked, pulling herself a chair at the table and propping her chin up on the palm of her hand. The nicknames irritated him and she watched his cheek twitch, but he said nothing. So, she prodded again: “Boone.” Nothing. “Boone.” Another twitch. “Craig.” He sniffed at that one. “Craigory J. Boone. Please talk to me.” 

“Do we really need to be cheating innocent people out of their money?” He asked flatly, peering at her over his sunglasses. 

“There’s a credit check to get into the strip and this is the easiest way I can figure out how to get some funds,” Juno pulled out the caps she’d won and began counting. This had been a big haul, too. “Plus, I think we’re almost there. I can fudge some casino chips and use them at the Atomic Wrangler once we get back to Freeside and that’ll be enough.” 

He huffed again, displeased at her plan. Juno had given him plenty of opportunities to leave, but for some reason, he had confidence that she’d put the Legion down. Hell, she didn’t have confidence that she’d remember how to tie her shoes most mornings. The man had a lot more faith in her than she had in herself these days. 

Ever since the bullets to the brain, she’d forgotten simple things for short periods of time. Nothing big. Sometimes how to properly cook gecko meat or how to fill the chamber on her gun, but it always came back. Juno had forgotten the night she got shot at first, but as she asked around, she pieced it back together little by little. She remembered her name and her dad, too. The important stuff. All together, pretty impressive for someone who’d been shot in the head by an idiot who couldn’t kill someone properly. 

There was a small portion of her that was afraid that there’d be other, worse repercussions from being shot, but she’d yet to figure those out. 

She was still the same woman. 

Perhaps that’s what got her the most. Every person she met expected her to feel this sort of revelation after being shot, that she’d have forgotten everything or turned out to be a completely nasty person, but Juno felt the same and she felt like she’d either been shortchanged or… she didn’t know… guilty? Better people had been injured like her and wound up completely different or dead. She really didn’t deserve to stay alive after all that. She’d cheated death once already and the second time made it feel like it was her cheap party trick. 

Juno felt a hand on her shoulder: 

“Hey. We’re going, right?” Boone had taken his glasses off and was staring at her as if she’d done something odd. She supposed she had. Sitting still and reminiscing about your traumatic brain injury for lengthy periods of time wasn’t really apropos. It was something that she needed to think about when she was trying to get some much-needed sleep. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Go pull Cass from the bar and let’s get going.” 

The sniper raised a brow, but eventually stood to go pull Cass from wherever she was causing trouble. It’d been a hell of a time getting her to come along, get out of the outpost and do something other than drinking herself to death, but Juno had succeeded. She was a very charming woman. _Not charming enough to convince a man to not shoot you,_ she reminded herself. 

She took a moment in the bathroom to wash her face and comb her fingers through her dusty hair before meeting her companions outside, anything to get the feeling of the road off of her. The outpost had been just a temporary distraction. Juno’s fingers traced the nearly-healed scars on her forehead, still recoiling at the sting. They weren’t the first or only scars on her face; she’d sliced her upper lips open years ago, so luckily, she wasn’t too precious about losing more real estate. In a strange way, she thought the scars suited her along with the haircut she’d received during the surgery to piece her head back together. Perhaps she’d keep half her head shaved.

She got more compliments on her appearance these days than she ever had, but a part of her figured it was just guilt others felt for her. 

Boone and Cass were waiting for her outside, arguing with each other. Rolling her eyes, she pulled the worn gambler hat she’d come across back in Freeside over her head. “Come on, assholes,” she chuckled, patting Boone on his back, “let’s try to get at least halfway to Vegas before the sun goes down.” 

They didn’t speak much as they made their way north. Only the sounds from the radio on the pip boy she’d been given filled the silence, Mr. New Vegas’ smoky tones keeping them company. It’d been a long time since Juno had traveled with company, much less people who she had no intention of swindling. They didn’t ask a lot of personal questions, which suited her perfectly. It was better if her past didn’t complicate things. 

An abandoned gas station wound up being their home for the night. Boone had cleared it out of any pests and Juno was now perusing the shelves and back closets for anything that could serve as their meal for the night; Cass managed to make the cram and insta-mash palatable, much to both Juno and Boone’s surprise. 

“Does it still hurt, them gunshot wounds?” The redhead asked as she cleared the box lid she was using as a plate. She looked expectantly at Juno, and she immediately understood why she was asking. Neither of them knew a single thing about her: how she felt, what she liked, or what she did. 

“Uh, just a bit, it’s mostly the seizures I have to watch out for. Vision will go hazy and I’ll see spots and shit,” Juno responded, a hand absentmindedly brushing over her scars, “but I’m fine after a few seconds. They’re no big deal.” 

They sat around the gas stove and chatted about their scars, about the NCR, anything that came into mind. If you didn’t focus too much on his life, even Boone proved to be chatty. Well, chattier than usual, Juno noted. He must appreciate a good story about a scar. She spared the boring details of her life, but told them about her father, how he manufactured guns and ammo back in the NCR, told them how she learned how to play cards and eventually how to win at them. 

She told them a lot of unimportant things and made them sound like the most important things in her life. 

Juno opted to take the first watch that evening after their food had settled and their conversations had died down. Quietly, she picked up the rifle Boone had helped her fix and made her way outside. There was a chill in the air, but the pavement was still warm when she sat herself down, lighting a cigarette and taking in a deep drag of stale tobacco. 

"How'd you wind up in this mess?" She asked herself, blowing smoke in the air. Had she stayed in Nipton, she'd probably be up on a cross by now or perhaps some legionary whore. Somehow, being shot in the head and walking away from that was better. Not by much, but better. Juno liked to assume she'd have been able to talk herself out of that lottery, though. Perhaps not, though. She'd considered herself to be one of the most charming women, but it hadn't even been enough to keep Benny from shooting her in the head. 

Boy, these past few weeks had done a number on her self confidence. Something she'd have to work on.

When they stopped in Boulder City the next morning, somehow, Juno wasn’t surprised to find herself playing messenger between adults who acted like toddlers. Even though she’d been born and raised in the NCR, she had little patience for the military or their tactics, and that extended to their negotiation tactics. 

“You should just kill the Kahns in there,” Boone had commented as she returned once again from the building the tribals had holed themselves up in. He and Cass had been waiting for her in the sun for about an hour at this point, watching her go back and forth between the Kahns and the NCR. 

“Thanks for the advice, soldier boy,” Juno huffed as she pushed her hair back, sweat dripping from her brow, “but one of those drug-peddling assholes did a shit job at burying me. I think we need to let them pass.” 

It took some convincing on her end, but she finally wound up walking out with the rest of the Kahns, chatting away with Jessup. There was no way she could’ve blamed him for what happened to her. Juno would’ve preferred a warning that the man she’d spent hours talking up and flirting with was just going to try to kill her, but that one was on Benny, not him or the rest of the Kahns. 

“Man, Benny wouldn’t shut up about you, either,” he groaned as she walked with them out of the ruins of the city. She could feel Boone glaring daggers in her back for even bothering with the tribals, but she couldn’t care less. “He called you his ‘dream girl’. Said you could’ve really gotten somewhere. You know, if he hadn’t killed you.” 

“That’s adorable, but the joke’s on him. I was planning on robbing him,” Juno replied bluntly. There was a part of her that was incredibly flattered that a man nearing his forties was acting like a schoolboy in love, and another, smaller part of her that was incredibly weirded out. Funnily enough, Benny wasn’t the weirdest man to have expressed romantic intent with her. After all, there’d been Chainsaw, that mayor of Nipton who’d been oddly obsessed with her, and countless others. A part of her figured that even that baby-faced Legionary in Nipton had a vested interest in her. ‘A lucky fool’ he’d called her. 

Boy, he had no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A: Not really, but let's see where it takes us. 
> 
> In all seriousness, I don't, really, other than exploring Juno as a character more and developing her outside of the narrative that was created for the courier in FNV. We all know how the game goes, but like??? What if I want to make something that goes outside of the endings I was given a choice of? Juno isn't necessarily a good person or a person who makes good decisions, so it'd be nice to explore that type of character more. 
> 
> This chapter does end in a weird place, but I don't have a great transition from this to the next part, so weird ending it is. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Hugs and kisses, 
> 
> Wil.


	3. Q: Was this chapter rewritten?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't like smut, stop at the second HR

“So, did you kill Elijah Anderson?” The screen asked her as she poured herself a drink. 

Juno glanced back at Mr. House, well, the projection of his image, “of course not. I’m not a murderer, just a thief and a con. I don’t know the guy, never seen him.” Somehow, there were fresh oranges and plenty of cherries stocked in this bar and despite her curiosity, she wasn’t going to ask. Some questions were better left unanswered. 

His voice crackled with static as he laughed, “well, that’s good to hear, but unfortunately for you, that means you’re going to be doing his work for me.” He paused, waiting for her to ask the obvious question, but started in again before she could get a word out, “of course, I’m willing to pay extra.” 

So she listened to his offer: get the chip from Benny, go south to the fort, talk with Caesar, get access to bunker. Simple enough and it paid well. Enough caps to keep her going for quite some time. 

He was kind enough to give her a place to stay in New Vegas, a space big enough for her to house the people she’d picked up on the way, too. However, she fully intended on keeping House at arm's length; he could toss her aside in a matter of seconds, but he knew she could do the very same. So both she and House were playing the roles of dutiful servant and gracious host indefinitely. 

And gracious he was. 

The accommodations exceeded Juno's expectations: the suite was bigger than her own torched home in Nipton with room enough for her, the other lonely souls she'd picked up, and the entire NCR army. She watched, half-stunned as Veronica, the girl she'd picked up a few days ago outside of Boulder City ran through the rooms, more giddy than a fish in water. Boone had quietly set up his own space in the massive bedroom and she could hear Cass rifling through the cabinets. 

Juno was grateful that she had her own space away from the others; as nice as it was to have people she could consider acquaintances, she still preferred her solitude above all else. 

Which was why she slipped out after she was confident everyone else had gone to sleep. She had unfinished business to attend to. 

Even after the sun had set, the desert heat still radiated off the pavement, Juno could feel it through the soles of the heels she'd picked out. She was strategically armed with a pair of high heels, a green, satin dress she'd found, and an all-knowing grin on her face, framed by loose, sandy locks of hair. "Dressed to Kill", the old phrase had been, and while Juno was dressed in such a way, she had no intention to kill. 

All she wanted was a chat. 

Eyes fell upon her as she pushed open the doors of the Tops Casino and Hotel, her hips swaying carefully in time with the music as she strolled up to the front desk, playing the role of an innocent tourist. Juno had robbed countless casinos this way, urging horny greeters and bouncers to help her out through the eve only to rob them blind while they were transfixed with her bosom. 

"Baby, baby, what can we help you with tonight?" A man with slicked back hair asked as he slid up to his spot behind the desk. "A girl like you shouldn't be alone in a place like this." 

"Oh?" She feigned surprise, biting her lip ever so slightly, "I'm not alone, stud. Not for long at least. I've got an appointment with the big guy." Juno tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and leaned in close to the man, gripping his chin with her fingers and whispered, "Benny's been expecting me, and I don't want to keep him waiting. Now, handsome, tell me where I can find him."

* * *

Benny had done a skull before he'd even got out of bed that morning as he had every morning since he'd buried that courier. Usually, he kept his drinking til after at least eleven, but that bottle of rye next to his bed had been too tempting. _Let me help you forget her!_ it screamed at him, over and over again, but no dice. 

He couldn't get her off his mind. 

That platinum chip was burning a hole in his pocket. The longer he sat on it, the more likely House was to send a goon after him. 

"Tomorrow," he said to himself, "I'll take care of that problem tomorrow."

And he better be quick about it, too. It was evident the old man had found someone to get his chip back by the way the guests and his chairmen were gossiping as he made his way down to the casino floor. Someone had made it into that dusty old casino after all. How about that? Maybe one day he'd get to see the inside of it. So long as his plan went through.

Running a casino wasn't as glamorous as those old films made it out to be, no babes hanging off your elbow, just a lot of drunks wasting their money on games that were made to dupe them, and Benny was here to watch over it all like a king from his place up on the balcony. It was the same old song and dance every day, handful of drunks would be turned around at the door, some half-ghoul looking gal would proposition him for a night in his bed, and then he'd find himself up in his room with his prod in his hand, thinking about that girl. 

Just as he'd decided to retire for the night, Swank flagged him down, whispering about some chick who was blabbing about some meeting with him. Benny had all intentions to send her away, but then he caught a glimpse of her, bare shoulders, tanned skin, full, pouting lips, her delicate fingers tapping a rhythm into the hospitality desk. 

It couldn't be? Could it? 

"So whaddya want me to do, Chief?" Swank asked, glancing back at her. 

He bit his lip in anticipation, "show her to the presidential suite, give her any libations she wants."

Benny quietly made his way into the room about ten minutes later, eyes fixated on the woman standing back facing him by the minibar with hair cascading down her back, high heels off and dangling from one hand. He had no concern that she'd try anything funny and after all, she'd left her weapons at the door. 

"Baby," he grinned, "long time no see." He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall, admiring the way she turned to face him. Even with the scars, she still looked the way he remembered. 

"Benny, don't ya know you can't leave a girl hangin'?" She teased as she took a cautious step forward, setting her shoes down on the pool table. "I've come to finish what we started, _baby_." 

The way she whispered that last word sent chills down his spine and he couldn't quite tell whether she was malicious or flirting. After all, she'd been at least mildly interested in him back in Goodsprings. 

But his questions were answered when she planted a kiss on his lips, fingers tugging at the neck of his shirt, pulling him closer. "Don't think that I'm not mad at you, killer," she whispered into his ear, "but we can discuss that later."

* * *

Juno wasn't quite sure what overcame her when she saw Benny. Waves of emotions coursed through her veins; rage, curiosity, lust, anger, wrath, confusion, it was hard to pinpoint what exactly she was feeling. 

So she kissed him. 

It seemed logical at the time. 

And that kiss led to him carrying her out the service door to his personal room upstairs, him pressing her up against the side of the elevator as they rode to his floor, their clothes already well on their way off. Judgement was telling her that she should’ve taken caution with the man who’d tried to kill her, but another, sicker part of her enjoyed this power she held over him. Or did he hold the power over her? Or was she just desperate for affection? 

It was probably a combination of all of them. At least she’s half-sure that Benny wouldn’t kill her this time. 

They moved feverishly through the living area to his bed, tossing the remaining clothing they wore aside. He'd offered to make her a drink, but she'd declined, too eager to feel some sort of affection. 

Jessup had been right, Benny was head over heels for her. He worshipped every inch of her body: from the scars on her forehead to the curve of her calves. Each inch was carefully admired as he planted kisses on her chest. Nobody had ever fawned over her like this, not even the ones she'd genuinely liked, either. No man or woman had ever considered her as much as this man did. 

It was something she could get used to. 

Juno relaxed as she leaned back on the bed, Benny's hands slowly, gently caressing her hips before nudging her knees apart to allow himself to gaze upon her. If he had said anything, she couldn't hear it; the beating of her heart was far too loud and it only grew louder as his fingertips outlined her cunt. It'd been so long since she'd been touched. 

Ushering a yelp from her, his fingers dove in, thumb skillfully teasing her clit. At this rate, she’d succumb quickly, probably much to Benny’s pleasure. He knew what he was doing and he was doing it well. The smug grin on his face told her that much. 

“Too much for ya, pussycat?” He teased as she tried to hold herself back from bucking her hips before he withdrew his hand, planting a kiss on her stomach. Juno nearly whined in disapproval.

With a smirk, she sat herself up, and pulled him onto the bed. “Not at all, baby,” she threw a leg over him, "just remember, you don't hold the power here." 

Juno planted a long, lustful kiss on his lips, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear and grabbed onto his cock with the other, slowly sitting herself atop it until she felt his tip penetrate her. She watched his head reel back in pleasure, begging silently for her to allow him to go deeper. Every time he tried to thrust, she sat up, a devilish grin stretching across her face. 

"I need ya to promise me somethin'," she whispered in his ear.

"Anything for you."

"We're on the same team, you and me. Don't try to kill me again." Juno eased down again, taking in his full length. 

His response was to fuck her frantically, like a man overcome by some sort of spell, ad if he'd been starved from a sensation like this for years. Juno couldn't help but gasp and cling to his shoulder, her tits bouncing in rhythm to his thrusts. 

They both climaxed unceremoniously: her first, trembling against his chest and out of breath and him second, thrusting deep within her before his breath slowed and they both sat there, coming down from their high. 

Even after, she found her fingers tracing the curve of his shoulders as he held her. Her face was pressed into the neck of the man who'd once tried to kill her. 

Somehow, it felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A: yeah, it was. I read a romance novel and became inspired. Enjoy some courier/Benny sex
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> \- Wil


	4. Q: Why is everyone in love with Juno?

Days after Benny had disappeared after their night together and her sneaking out of the TOPS Casino and Hotel, Juno found herself back in Nipton alone: the fires long burned out, the skeletons hanging from crosses picked clean of their meat by the birds. 

She couldn’t quite explain what brought her back to Nipton. Perhaps it was the Securitron hidden away in Benny’s room that scared her back to her home. He talked of taking over the strip, taking matters into her own hands and running the show without the influence of the NCR or House. Juno didn’t like the idea of controlling an empire like that on her own. She’d been in charge of things on her own before and people had lost their lives because of the decisions she made. Not again. She couldn’t do it. 

So that’s why she found herself alone in her old home, feet propped up on her kitchen table, smoking cigarette after cigarette. She’d been like this for nearly half a week, just staring off into nothing, contemplating, calculating. Juno had left her newfound friends back in Vegas, too, not wanting to deal with their judgemental looks after they would inevitably discover that she’d slept with the man who’d tried to kill her. 

She just wanted to be alone. 

Juno must have dozed off at her table, for it was night when she woke, she found a shadow sitting across from her, waiting patiently for her to wake up. 

“Odd for you to come back to your old home, Junon. Particularly when you have such a nice, new one given to you by the gracious Mr. House.” 

Her fingers twitched, remembering she’d left her guns in her bedroom. She recognized the voice. How could she forget this voice? It was the man who burned Nipton. His image was forever stuck in her memory, however, there was something familiar about him, something that hadn’t struck her when he’d greeted her the first time she returned to town.

She’d seen Vulpes Inculta elsewhere, though she couldn’t pin it down. 

“It’s a shame you’re a woman. Caesar could use someone like you. After all, you’re quite skilled at disappearing,” he paused, “but this was rather predictable, wasn’t it? Although, I was expecting you to come out the front doors of the TOPS.” 

Juno sat upright, bringing her feet back down to the ground and resting her elbows on the table, “is there something you need from me or are you just here to talk?” She stood, uncomfortable with sitting eye-level with the Legionary, and moved towards the kitchen, leaning against the counter. 

He noted this and stood himself, unwilling to allow her to have the high-ground, “I’m here to give you a gift, one you should not squander.” It became a game, each step he took, she took one back, knuckles turning white gripping her ancient countertops, until he had her cornered. The man stood roughly a head or so taller than her and for the first time in her life, Juno felt dwarfed by another’s presence. Head cocked, as if he were trying to figure her out, he asked: “are you afraid of me, Junon?” 

“Not of you, no.” 

“But you’re afraid of something.” 

She didn’t respond, merely watching as he pulled something from the pocket of his wastelander garb and placed it over her head and around her neck. 

“The eyes of the mighty Caesar are upon you, Junon White.” He remarked before she could ask the question. “He’s curious about you.”

“I have no interest in meeting him, you can take your trinket back.” She’d met Caesar once, long ago, and she had no intentions of meeting him again. 

“Even if he has the Chairman of the TOPS?” 

What was Benny doing there?

"Tell me, what was it like, mindlessly fucking the man who tried to kill you?" His curious thumb brushed against the scar on her head, skin still tender and warm, still healing, and then to the scars that marred her lips, his doing. "You probably told yourself that it was because you had all the power, right?" 

He paused, as if waiting for an answer,

"You're a lonely woman, Junon White. You were lonely when you approached me on my first of many visits to this town of degenerates, you were lonely when you accepted my simple task, and you're lonely now, eager to feel the touch of my hand on your face again. You didn't twitch, are you _that_ touch starved?" 

Juno took in a sharp, shallow breath as if she'd just been stabbed by the blade at the man's hip. "What do you want from me, Inculta?" 

And then he smiled. Years from now, she'd still have the memory of his smile stuck in her head. It was so innocent, almost as if a child were smiling at her, but she could feel the malice behind those pearly whites. "Why, to escort you to the Fort, if that is what you wish. It's a rather lonely and perilous journey. You have the mark of Caesar, but what good does that do against powder gangers and fiends?" 

"And that's all?" 

"That is all, Miss White." 

She sighed, defeatedly, knowing it was better to retreat and lick her wounds later. "Fine. Take me to Caesar, we can leave in the morning." Ducking from underneath his arms, Juno darted towards her room, "help yourself to whatever's here, I don't care, I'm going to sleep." 

"Even if that means you?"

"The fuck it does. You can get out of my goddamn house." 

But he chuckled, she had no clue that a man like that could laugh, and it was obvious it was his idea of a joke, though he’d said it as plainly as ever. Had it been anyone else, she would've laughed it off, but the guy gave her the creeps. If she wasn't so goddamn intimidated by him, she'd've kicked him out a long time ago, but it was better to give him a false sense of security, that she was just some dumb degenerate whore. That was the role she played best.

From the other side of her bedroom door, she could hear him rustling through his own pack, humming quietly as if he didn't have a care in the world. Did legionaries even have songs? Some ancient Roman ballad she didn't know about? All hail Caesar and fuck the visigoths?

Against her better judgement, she shed her dusty clothes and drew herself a shower. Juno felt that a lot of things she did these days were "against her better judgement”, but gods be damned if she didn’t do something to make herself feel human. Showers were a luxury that were too few these days. Even if the water fluctuated temperatures, it still felt better than sleeping in her own filth.

* * *

He remembered when he first laid eyes on Juno White. 

Vulpes had been a young man then, and she was barely over twenty, a mischievous look in her eyes, messy, blonde hair, and she never shut up. Not much had changed in ten years. A few new scars here and there, but she still stared an omen of death in the face as if it were nothing; that cocky smile mocking him. She was beautiful, an annoyance, and the most clever profligate he'd come across in all these years of having to deal with them. 

Long before the burned man was the burned man, long before he was frumentari, and long before the first battle of Hoover Dam, there’d just been Arizona. 

She'd come into Caesar's home, white coat sleeves rolled all the way up to her elbows, a quirk he'd later learn, hair pulled up high on her head, walking with so much purpose that you could've thought she owned the place. Vulpes remembered that her and her little group of "researchers" had set up a few hundred miles south in Legion territory. 

Vulpes wished he could've heard what the witch had said to Caesar that day, how she managed to trick him, but all he'd seen was the pair walking out a few hours later, shaking hands as if they were old friends. 

Had it been jealousy? No. He just wanted to know. 

Or was it? He wanted to hear her talk, listen to her spill stories out of that mouth of hers and try to see if he, too, would be bewitched. 

The man hadn't been joking when he asked if her offer of everything that's in the house included her and even now, as he watched her sleep, as restful as a child who'd known no struggle in her life, he felt that temptation. 

Vulpes despised that a profligate whore like her tempted him so. He knew her methods, he'd met her when she lived in Nipton, all Ruby lipped and dolled up, rigging card games with fools who were entranced by her. 

He'd thought that the two scars he'd given her would put a damper on her confidence. 

Vulpes silently shut the door behind him, taking his seat back at the kitchen table, waiting for dawn to arrive. 

Would Caesar be as charmed by her this time around? He smiled; at least, he'd be able to hear her talk to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A: Because she's got a silver tongue and huge tits.
> 
> I arise like a phoenix from the ashes!! I'm happy to finally be continuing with this!!


End file.
